The Mobian Wars
by Pinkishblueblack
Summary: A century has past on Mobius. An unknown crisis reduced the planet to dust and ashes save for the island in the sky where most inhabitants remain. Follow the porcupine, Joe, and his comrades as they battle to restore their planet and its people.Sth backst
1. Chapter 1: Bombs Bursting in Air

**Chapter 1: Bombs Bursting in Air**

The huge air filtration and AC fan shook the large, dimly lit industrial factory room. Such a noise as someone trying to communicate verbally to a person was audibly difficult, but it was still possible to carry on a shouted conversation. However, no such conversations were needed now, as this wasn't the final destination for two figure's journey toward the farthest corner in the room from their current position. The whole place was run down, not used for at least one hundred years, though still modern-looking. Large wires hung from the higher atmospheres of the factory, and snaked along the floor, leaving an inattentive victim prone to trip over. Strange containers of equipment created a kind of labyrinth to navigate around, some being as small as a VGA monitor, and some indescribable ones larger than a shed or even a small house.

The dark forms reached the corner they were heading to, and the first one stuck his foot into a hole in the wall that was large enough only for a foot. This action, lead to a whooshing noise, and a rush of light to infiltrate the darkness of the factory, revealing a hidden entrance. The light revealed the two forms as a porcupine following an echidna–two anthropomorphic animals living among others on an Earth three thousands years in the future.

Humans encountered a species of extraterrestrial life that visited this planet. Curious as some of them were, they captured an individual of this species, called the Xorda, to study their technology and anatomy, even resorting to dissection. Offended by this crude, inhumane behavior, the Xorda exhibited their destructive power by unleashing their gene-bombs which were designed to destroy every living organism on the planet, rendering the entire planet a naked wasteland.

What the Xorda did not expect to happen, was for the gene bombs to eradicate the whole of human existence, and enhance the evolution of all species excepting it. Not only enhancing the evolution of the Animal Kingdom did the gene bombs trigger, but also infused human DNA with that of many of the animal species of Earth. Presently, echidnas posses the minds of humans (perhaps a much larger one), hedgehogs and porcupines walk on two legs, squirrels and cats have thumbs, and one can find a human characteristic in any creature which walks the globe.

For many years, animals build their mental integrity developing communities, government, and economy, very similarly to their human ancestors. The differences are the rate of development in which all of this happens and the planet that they lived on they called Mobius. The apes, however, as developed as they already were, evolved into creatures uncannily resembling humans, given that they had four fingers instead of five, and a mental power many times that of their human predecessors. In a war between what they are called Overlanders, and the others, Furries, one overlander was captured by two hedgehogs after he fled his own kind for making a horrible mistake in experimentation. This overlander, Julian Kintobor, had a very high IQ and was technically skilled. He was positioned as warlord for the Kingdom of Acorn (the government of the furries was a monarch). With this power, the Kingdom of Acorn won the war with Julian's knowledge of the opposing side's motives and tactics.

However, Kintobor's intentions were far from friendly. With the war over, he initiated a coup, enslaving helpless furries, and turned them into mindless, witless, will-less, cybernetic constructs using a machine a hedgehog scientist created only to cure the fatally injured. Julian changed his name to Ivo Robotnik (Kintobor in reverse) to instate fear in his enemies, and with the aid of his also intelligent nephew, Snively, transformed the Kingdom of Acorn's home city, Mobotropolis, into an industrial, metallic, and constantly dark megalopolis he christened Robotropolis. Many escaped to form rebellions, making use of guerrilla tactics to cripple the evil scientist's production.

With all threat of Robotnik neutralized the hopeless task of restoring Mobotropolis to its original state was abandoned, and the Kingdom of Acorn continued in the village of Knothole, later a city. Until recently, Knothole was a megalopolis existing in harmony with nature, when an unexplained catastrophe reduced the planet to ashes and wasteland. Save for the occasional weed, bush, or insect, there's no life on the surface of Mobius. Those who could avoid or foresee the disaster fled to Angel Island, a huge mass of soil and real estate kept airborne by a giant radioactive jewel referred to as the Master Emerald. Much of the power of the gene bombs that the Xorda unleashed were absorbed by beryl deposits over time, and later crystallized into emeralds that contained vast amounts of power; this emerald being the largest one, it is the most powerful. There are more than one, smaller, emeralds with such power called Chaos Emeralds, but the locations of said emeralds are never as consistent. The smaller ones are palm sized, and the Master Emerald is slightly smaller than a very small car. It is known, universally, that there are only seven Chaos Emeralds, but recent breakthroughs in knowledge produce skeptics to this idea, believing that there may be more.

Our two friends are now in one of Robotnik's old, undiscovered factories that have been renovated to accommodate a hidden elevator down to an underground research facility. There, weapons are invented, tested, researched, and distributed to the official Island Special Offense Organization. They're descending that elevator, and the echidna, named Winter, was instructing the new recruit on weapons detail. Winter was in his middle ages, and although echidnas are usually a shade of red, Winter was a pale white as a result of chemical testing whereas he did not have sufficient lab-clothing on. The chemical compound that was spilled only contacted one place on his body; however on contact with his skin it caused him to grow white fur, ever since that accident.

"You ever seen a switch-blade?" The echidna asked in a hoarse voice.

The novice replied in a cool, controlled voice, inserting his hands into his coat pockets, "Of course I have."

Winter pulled out of his blue lab coat what appeared to be just a hilt and handle of a Japanese style, straight, single-edged, sword. Then he made an action as if to strike at Joe with a fake blade, and the friction of a metal against metal swishing noise struck the sound waves. Now, Winter's handle was a complete, bladed sword, pointing not half a foot from the novice's nose, who didn't move a muscle as this happened.

"Your primary weapon, the S-005 Collapsing Blade Sword," Winter repositioned the sword to his side, "the blade is divided into three fragments, each hollow, locking into place when extended using centrifugal force. It is made of the strongest, while lightest, metals known in echidna science and metallurgy, so these cost a hefty price to make.

"To collapse it…" he indicated a non-protruding, button on the handle, pushed it, and the blade retreated into its home, "this is the most current model. Newer models are being researched and tested, like the 006 featuring a blade that becomes super hot, or the 007 which adds two-way functioning spring system allowing for button extension and collapse."

"Any other model ideas?" The elevator dinged their floor.

"They have considered a double edged blade."

The elevator doors parted to reveal a small, ten meter long hallway. Winter handed the weapon to the apprentice, "What did you say your name was?"

The porcupine looked at the lab coat, decked echidna, sticking his hands in his pockets along with the sword, "Joe Porc."

Winter couldn't help not stifling a chuckle through his nose, "What kinda name–"

Joe only took a step out of the elevator, replying, "Don't forget what you just handed–"

"Sorry, sorry," Joe smirked, the white echidna regained his equanimity and continued down the hall ahead of Joe.

At about five feet eleven inches, clad in his favorite dark grey, thick cloth trench coat, Joe had spiked hair that leaned to the left (his left), and wore heavy, thick soled boots. He specified that look to possibly strike fear into the souls of the enemy, but all of his friends knew Joe for who he really was: a funny, nice guy who is normally closed up, but opens to his friends, who he trusts. He used to be an everyday local in the city of Angel Island, maintaining a job as a waiter for a casual restaurant, but due to exposure to high intensity wavelengths emanating from a Chaos Emerald he found, Joe's physical apparatus received an overhaul, allowing him to push himself beyond normal conditions. He also absorbed some Chaos powers making it a possibility for him to control the forces of the Emerald. Joe was twenty-three.

The hall led to a thick, metallic, sliding door which opened only after Winter had his eye, fingerprint, and identification card scanned. On the other side was a sight for eyes to feast upon. Gadgets, of all shapes, sizes, weights, and light-up LEDs, and weapons, guns of many calibers and styles filled shelves and tables strewn in aisles in a room of metallic walls, about the size of a classroom.

"Welcome to the Special Weapons and Tools room. The briefing room is just beyond this, however we must issue to you some tools based on your assignment," Winter said strolling over to a table. He picked up what looked like a kind of ray gun, "This tool, is not a weapon, but a Temporary Laser Wave Disrupter, the TLWD. Many, older, beta versions were tested, however this, the latest model, was tested and proved to be the most efficient.

"Using the most high-technical knowledge to date, the TLWD uses negative energy in an extruding, restricted dome, canceling out laser wave frequencies that come in contact with it. The dome lasts only about ten seconds in uninterrupted use then needs at least twenty seconds to cool the conducting metals in the machine. After twenty seconds it is used for another ten seconds, it will undoubtedly need forty seconds to make up for the overheating," Winter handed the instrument to Joe, "in essence, it is a device used most sparingly. The TLWD withstands a laser power output of no more than four hundred watts, so it will resist as much as a small, phaser-like weapon."

Winter, then, moved to another table followed by Joe, "Should you encounter a long range enemy," he picked up a weapon shaped like a one handed, fully-automatic gun, "firing this semi-automatic, scoping, silenced pistol ought to do it. The non-protruding, thumb button on the handle zooms the scope to five times from two, and back. It is also recommended that you unscrew the silencer, and store it, detached, with the gun in your pocket."

The two men moved to a shelf on the opposing side of the aisle they occupied, "My favorite and most simple trick of them all," The handed the rookie a small, cardboard box, "your being chased by a mob down a hall or confined place, and these tiny, metal spheres about the size of pearls are sure to keep them busy," Winter explained with a smirk, "Unfortunately, they are inefficient and–"

Joe went ahead and grabbed two additional boxes, sticking them into a couple pockets on his trench coat, "I get the picture."

During orientation, Joe learned most of what he needed to know about what kind of things he'd have to go up against on these missions. Sneaking, snooping, discovering, fighting and killing, and the sorts were all described. Over the years, much intel has been brought forth, giving a plethora of information for scientists (mostly echidnas) to analyze and render for their own purposes. Such advances in warfare technology that were based off of enemy systems were the TLWD and various kinds of laser and plasma based military hardware. However, with the generation of defensive utilities like the TLWD, laser and plasma arms may become obsolete.

Whatever amount of intel that has been acquired, none has really shown what the alien enemy looks like. The only thing that can be said is that the invaders have come to form an alliance with the overlanders who are in charge of ground operations. The Island Special Offense Organization (ISOO) has declared that the current main objective is taking out overlander field commanders and captains.

It smelled of overlanders and waste deposits as Joe snuck up to one of their sub-bases in the dark of the night. Avenues and streets crisscrossed his path that made grid patterns in the deep shadows of the tall Robotropolis buildings. Following directions he placed in his thoughts, Joe made it look so simple to expertly make his way to the top of the building he was infiltrating. To uncover an air ventilation duct with unmatched accuracy and stealth, penetrate the enemy's security systems using the Temporary Laser Wave Disrupter, and crawl through the tunnels of the ventilation system with such precision and silence was work of professionals.

The stolen base layout proved to be quite useful as Joe made his way to the conference room where the overlander commander and his generals discussed their next move against the furries. Joe was specifically told not to take out the overlander until Joe wrote down as much information as he could about their intentions.

"Oh great, another one of these boring discussions," Thought Drake, one of Commander Ice's many generals, "If he doesn't notice me, maybe I can rest my eyes a bit, and just listen."

Drake was one of the lower ranking generals, whose cockiness and arrogance restrained him from moving up in class. He even thought, on many occasions, that he would be a better commander than Ice. These briefings were held in a room with a large ceiling, decorative drapes, and military maps hanging about the walls. Commander Ice sat at the head of an oak table, and spoke of the army's current state and where they were all headed; many things that were important and in relation to all of the generals in the room. The other commanders in the Overlander Army spread across the globe had agreed that they should make an offensive move against Angel Island.

Drake, obviously not caring as much, made himself sit upright in his seat, not slouch, and try to rest his eyes. However, he could not help but advert his attention to the ventilation pipes over Commander Ice's head, once in a while, almost telling himself he had heard something incredibly faint from them.

"–General Drake!" Ice barked, "Is there something more important than my talking right now that you must look away?"

Now was the time to act.

Joe had noticed that one of the overlanders may have caught whiff of his presence, constantly darting his eyes up at Joe's general direction. Sensing he was in danger of being found out, or worse caught, Joe prepared himself for his series debut. He readied his sword in the right hand, and the TLWD in the left, after pocketing his notepad of course.

As if falling into a dream and in one movement, Joe kicked out the grating for the air flow, yelled a battle cry, unsheathed his katana in mid-air, and decapitated Ice. The generals froze for half a second, then bombarded Joe with laser fire. He easily shielded himself with his disrupter, but knowing the limitations of the machine, worked like lightning, slicing generals in half, and spilling blood on the military maps.

There was no doubt that one of the generals triggered a silent alarm system, so Joe took out the remote-detonated bombs that had been given to him to use on the building, armed them, and hid them underneath the oak table. Joe went through corridors of the base, slicing his way to the main stairwell to get to the top of the building.

Back in the conference room, two overlander officers entered, "A slaughter!" one of them said, gaping in awe.

They heard something that they thought they'd never hear among such a mangled group. One of the generals was sliced across the abdomen, spilling blood, but managed to gasp out at one of the officers in a hoarse, labored whisper, "…under…under the table!"

The first officer heard what was said and quickly dashed across the room to peer underneath it, "HOLY SH–"

Fireworks lit up the sky. Joe sat in the passenger seat of an ISOO military hovercraft behind the cockpit, flying away from the site. He had just activated the five-hundred feet range remote detonation, and the night's darkness was violated by the bright explosion. The vehicle darted away to avoid shrapnel and debris from the exploding headquarters.

"'And the rockets' red glare' eh?" one of the pilots, a white hare, cracked, twisting around in his seat, "How was your mission, huh?"

Joe responded, coolly, "Like pie."


	2. Chapter 2: Disappointment and Drinks

**Chapter 2: Disappointment and Drinks**

Picture after picture flashed by on the screen the liquid crystal display projector was showing to an assembly of commanders. Some were outraged, some bemused, and some kept their emotions in check however were also in a state of shock. The pictures taken from security cameras showed of a porcupine garbed in a black, flowing trench coat, wielding only a sword.

"September twenty-fourth, thirty-three forty-two, twenty-three hundred, thirty six hours, Robotropolis based Commander Ice is assassinated. Seconds later, all generals in the room are killed. The suspect plants a remotely detonated bomb, and escapes desecrating some very skilled guards like they were nothing. Destroying everything in his path, he flees to the top of the building to a waiting hovercraft. The vehicle makes off as the bomb is detonated, taking out our entire Robotropolis base-of-operations," the assembly shifts, uneasily, as speaker goes silent for three seconds.

"I have seen many failures in my days as Commander-in-Chief of us overlanders, and this is–almost–unacceptable. I want all security details up-to-date, and tight. I also want my generals to train their soldiers with more discipline and rigor."

President Sufurr of the Overlander Empire is not always a forgiving man. His pride in leading the overlanders and faith in their victory is strengthened by loyal followers, who see no other logical path to fortune. With the incredibly powerful force of the Scelthreac on their side, the confidence of victory over the furries is overwhelming. That is why not one single Overlander Empire soldier has ever forsworn the alliance with the Scelthreac beings and left to join the other side. To be a soldier in the army of overlanders and renounce the Overlander–Scelthreac Alliance would be to deny reason and put you into jeopardy, instating upon yourself certain doom.

However much this fact remains, Sufurr has observed a force to be recognized among the ranks of the furries. Although he has seen other low profile agents working for the furries, this one seems to be the most formidable. He wants his men ready and prepared for any kind of attack that could cause considerable damage, just in case there may be more of these kinds of beings. A still from one of the frames from the security camera displayed this porcupine lopping off the head of a considerably remarkable commander. The picture loomed like a horrible foreshadowing to disaster.

"Turn that damn, projector off," the operator was happy to oblige.

The silver badge flashed the bedside lamp light while flipping through the air. Joe's palm met its landing with a small pat sound. He was sitting at his computer in his small, Angel Island apartment, after getting home from a little acceptance ceremony.

"Island Special Offense Operative," Joe read the badge aloud, with a hint of pride. The ceremony mostly introduced him to fellow agents: Tim, a cat, a chameleon named Diskrette, and a raccoon called Samantha ("but everyone calls me Sam").

"Hey, Joe!" A chat window popped up on the monitor's screen, it was Tim, "We're all gonna be at the bar–Sam, Diskrette, and I–as a kind of celebration for you. You'll come, right?"

Joe had been resting his feet on his desk, in a reclined, relaxed position, admiring his badge. He became alert, sat up-right in his swivel chair, and typed, "Sure, I'll come, when?"

"Any time tonight, though we'll be there at about nine."

"See you at nine, then!"

Joe didn't, really, expect him to be invited to something like that. His self-worth level was not very high, and over the years he had accepted that fact. He accepted not being invited to friend's places, parties, and celebrations, but he did have a level of pride that conflicted with his self-worth level, creating a kind of conundrum. He pondered over subjects like these, coming to the conclusion not to put his personality to test by not doing things like parties, however much he liked to go to them. Not that he didn't go to any.

He was already out the door, in casual clothing of baggy, cargo pants, a tee-shirt, and a zip-up sweater. The cool, summer evening felt nice behind a full moon, and even though he was furiously, single, it felt romantic, bringing him to the thought of an old, high school friend, Linda. A fox whose personality filled the air with confidence, magic, and sincerity, Linda was one who one could trust, and believe that she'd get the job done. Joe had strong feelings for her back in his senior year at high school, but it was over now. The Storm decimated many things. He sighed.

The short walk along the urban sidewalks, past convenience stores and clubs to the _Floating Tavern_ felt refreshing, and eased Joe's small, headache. While most of Angel Island is still naturally preserved, echidnas have developed it some. Such developments included this, relatively small, city, called Angel Reception named for its proximity to the edge of the island. So close, in fact, that the bar is right on the edge, even overhanging it for a nice view. The bar stools actually stand on reinforced glass, held up with steel I-beams, and nothing below it but thousands of feet to the planet's surface. To say the least, the view was certainly, spectacular. The bar counter is an island where the tender stands in a center aisle, grabbing beer, wine, and other alcoholic or non-alcoholic beverages for customers. Tables were set up more in-land for customers who want to eat lunch, dinner, or a snack.

"Over here, dude!" the black, white striped cat called. Joe came here once in a while to dull his senses a bit, and let loose. He was not a stranger to alcohol. He arrived about a half-hour later than everyone else, but was heartily invited to have a seat over the dizzying drop to Mobius's torn and beaten surface. The other three were dressed casually as well.

"Dang man," the chameleon, Diskrette, started after a second, over the low din of the bar, "must've been an intense first mission. All I had to do was steal these plans from an overlander archive," he took a swig and shifted in his seat, "felt my first bullet that day, but they say that you got outta there without a scratch. Wow!"

"–Laid it down on those furless bastards pretty hard, didn't'cha?" Tim mused.

"It was nothing, really," Joe shrugged.

Sam looked up, "Nothing, huh?" She said, "so should we all call you Humble Joseph, now?"

Joe ordered a light beer, "Nah, I'm being quite sincere," he said, in a matter-of-factly kind of tone.

"Look whose got confidence, guys," Diskrette mocked, playfully, "we have a top notch player here," he said, shaking Joe's shoulder.

They all laughed a bit, and Joe smiled with them, taking a sip of his beer. They took a break, then, for a minute or two, taking sips of their drinks, enjoying the liquids' sharpness. They went on like that, discussing their own first missions, debating which of theirs were more difficult (below Joe's, of course), and generally keeping a light-hearted atmosphere. After little more than two hours, each moderately drunk (Tim slightly more-so, however), they headed for their homes.

Joe developed a passion for Sam's personality, and liked her attitude. He had taken a liking to petite bodies and large, bushy, tails, too. But Joe knew that getting into relationships was getting into hardships and complications. He had observed, through the small time he had lived and thought, that love can obscure reason, potentially bring you grief and loss, and even force you to do things you wouldn't normally or logically do. The burden of love, to hold in your heart, is a beautiful, tragic feeling. Being part of a unity of two, and the transcending from single and separate; free from being un-loved, and imprisoned behind bars of happiness. The hardest loss, in a relationship, is secrecy. However, the ignorance of these important facts is commonly and deliberately ignored for certain, physical, reasons. The state of ignorance, one could say, is bliss.

Joe arrived back at his apartment. He felt significantly drained, and it felt considerably relaxing to lie flat on his back on his double sized bed. As a matter of fact, he fell asleep in a substance of seconds. Alas, he was awakened minutes later by his phone. Wearily, he leaned over to the side of his bed, and picked up the phone on his bed stand.

"Hullo?" Joe answered sleepily.

"Hi, Joe, it's Sam," She said, in a cheerfully, pitched voice.

"Hi!" Joe said, awake now, "good to meet you all, tonight."

"Our pleasure," She responded, "Mine especially," Joe's eyes lit up at this comment, "how does your schedule look this Friday?"

"Well, I get off work at five P.M."

"Care to join me for a drink and a bite to eat? I was thinking of going to that place, De Quincy's."

"Nah," Joe said, cringing, "that's where I work, that would be a little awkward," Joe said, "sorry. But I know this place a few blocks down called Jared's."

"Oh yeah, I know that place, sure!" Sam agreed, "So, five-thirty?"

"Yeah, five-thirty sounds great," Joe replied, "see you there."

"Bye!"

"Bye!"

The connection broke and Joe replaced the phone to its base. His mind was swimming in questions, "Wow, what do I wear?" "Me? How do I get picked out of us three?" "Why me? Why am I so special?" "Was it my performance on the mission?" "What does she think of me?" "What will we talk about?" And finally, "Good Lord, what am I doing?"


	3. Chapter 3: An Object of Mystery

**Chapter 3: An Object of Mystery **

The world was a blur, speeding past at a rate unbelievable to mortal standards. However, this was only a cruise for one who could track a lightning bolt's electric strand across the sky. One whose fascinating speed was adored, admired, and appreciated amongst Freedom Fighters around the entire globe. Stationed at the local village-base, Knothole, only a few seconds trip (for our blue, speedy friend here) from Robotropolis, Sonic the Hedgehog was on his way to a good friend's (and superior's) hut, on her order. However important this meeting was, he was "sure as sugar" that the preceding mission was no problem for him.

The squirrel-chipmunk was waiting, foot tapping, for him as her portable super-computer, Nicole, sat on the table beside her, "What took you so long? That was 1067 milliseconds too slow, by my standards," she glared at him, crossly.

"Why, my dear Princess Sally," Sonic began, "I'm sure you know the drill: rain fell last night creating slippery mud, Freedom Fighters walking by I must avoid, Tails calls me over to ask a question," He sighed in mock sincerity, leaning on the table, "really, Sal, I might as well be expected a nanosecond after you request my presence."

The girl smirked at Sonic's cocky, joking, "Okay, Sonic, these reports from Rotor's Scout-bots say that a _short jog_ to the east of here, high emissions of energy output from under ground are radiating around this spot."

"Hmmm, I can think of only two things that output high amounts of energy: Power Rings and Chaos Emeralds."

"Correct," Sally said, "whatever it is that is there must be found out before Robotnik, just in case it is another source of Power Rings or something."

With that, a quick scouting party was organized including Sally, Bunnie Rabbot, and Sonic. Tails was allowed to go after much debate, seeing as the mission was not a dangerous one. It was morning in the Great Forest, a good time to start a fifteen mile walk east to the object to be discovered. They all put up a good start, and after eight miles everyone was allowed to rest.

"Oh, Sonic," Tails complained, "how much longer do we have to walk like this?"

"At least another half hour," Sonic answered, also tired of walking.

The twin tailed fox sighed, contemplating the boringness of this "mission". The blue-eyed fox sat on a stump, and drank gratefully from the canteen being passed around. At only eight, Miles Prower (referred to as Tails for his extra tail) was an intellect; a young prodigy in study under the also very smart inventor, Boomer (who would rather be called, Rotor). He has a unique ability to rev up his tails like a helicopter, and fly quite fast.

The mid-day sun shone through the trees as he looked up at it resting on the stump. Sonic, Bunnie, and Sally were jabbering about a map, when suddenly the sun was momentarily blocked out by three hover vehicles that resembled Robotnik's. They were coming from where the group was heading, and flying toward Robotropolis.

"Look!" Tails shouted, pointing at the sky, "Three crafts, they look like Robotnik's!"

Before anyone else could act, Sally put Nicole into Sonic's hands, "Take her and get to the canyon. Analyze the area, then hurry back here and make your report."

"Of course," Sonic obliged, "be back in a few."

Hence, he was out of sight before one second followed.

The two minute run the rest of the way to the canyon was relief for his legs. Sonic was not used to walking long distances. Walking to him is a human equivalent of just standing for a really long time. The tree cover lessened as he reached the crevice, and when he got there, it was quite a sight. Although the whole thing was a little more than a football's field in length, it was twice that in depth.

"Scanning," Said Nicole's voice synthesizing algorithms. It took about ten seconds for her to finish, "though there are some traces of the object's power lingering, no significant energy waves give proof of the object still being here."

"And there are not any more than one?"

"Negative," Nicole answered, "however, my scanners indicate traces of jet engine exhaust fumes to your ten."

"I should have known," Sonic sighed with scorn, "the ol' 'Buttnik always two steps ahead of us," he turned to head back, "Oh well, just another routine trip into Robotropolis."

The beaten earth scorched under the friction of the soles of Sonic's shoes. Deep within the cavernous trench, not an hour earlier, Robotnik had defiled the canyon with his presence. The partially robotic, fat, humanoid left his trail straight to his home in his city of robots and metallic buildings. Within this crazed man's clutches, he possessed a prized artifact he decided was worth researching for its power.

Robotnik placed the gold plated staff into a large analyzing container. The staff was hand-hold diameter and about five-and-a-half feet long. It had a fancy slot on the top that seemed to imply that it would fit a large gemstone. The pair was in a kind of laboratory, surrounded by metallic walls, and various instruments.

"Now, Snively," the deep, sinister voice croaked, "just what makes this stick so powerful?" The short, large nosed minion adjusted controls on a panel, and activated the machine. The console screen wrote up a property list for the object.

Snively's voice was nose-plugged and often annoying, "Significant elemental percentages, sir: seventy-eight percent iron, eleven percent steel composition, six percent gold, and five percent mercury, sir."

"Mercury?" Robotnik echoed, "Hmmm… It must be inside, in a hollow section, eh, Snively?"

"I suppose, sir," he shrugged. A moment passed while the doctor scanned the read-out.

"Put it under X-Ray."

Night started falling on Knothole Village. The spring air felt chilly, but promised better weather for the next day. In the comfort of Sally's hut, Sonic, Tails, Bunnie, and she discussed what next move they were to take.

"Ah just don't unnerstand whai that thing is so important to you, Sally-girl," Bunnie stated in her southern accent. Sally had just finished explaining the plan that she had to retrieve the item from Robotnik. Bunnie just wanted to leave the whole thing alone.

"I don't want Robotnik to figure out whatever he just dug up in that canyon. If that object really does have some unexplainable power source, I do not want him to unlock its secrets and have a potentially unlimited source of energy." Sally defined her reasoning with logic, "And, tonight, we must devise a plan for salvaging it, under he cover of night, you, Sonic, and I."

"–But!" Tails cut in. He hated being left out and missing all of the action the Freedom Fighters had.

"Sorry, Tails," Sally sympathized, "we let you go with us toward the canyon, but dropping into the heart of Robotropolis just isn't the same thing," she checked Nicole's on-screen clock, "I understand how you feel, but you only will be a burden for us. Now, it's getting late for all of us, and you should be heading to bed, Tails."

He shuffled out of the room, mumbling that he was afraid she might say something like that, and shambled to his hut. Tired as he was, Tails wouldn't have been kept down by drowsiness. The warm sheets against the spring air proved his thoughts otherwise, though, as he dulled his mind and drifted to sleep on fluffy clouds.

His slumber was uneasy and stirring as visions of the Ancient Walkers–spiritual deities presenting themselves as a trio under tribal masks–passed in and out of his visions. Sonic getting beaten fairly hard while trying to get back the object came into view for a few seconds; the object appearing to be a golden staff. The dreaming wore on, seeming to get dull, but then, Sally came into view with an incredibly stern look on her face, confronting Robotnik. She said something vaguely, something one would hear in a dream, and forget, for something to trigger its remembrance later on.

The Power Ring Pool distributes Power Rings to the village, and a careful vigilance is kept by a Freedom Fighter in order to collect rings that surface. One such Freedom Fighter isn't as vigilant as he should be, however, and dozes off at times, especially since he is on the early morning shift.

A bright, yellow glow filled the water's sub-surfaces, and soon the whole area was awoken by a golden, phosphorous glow. The emanation came from a single ring, about a basketball's radius, hovering horizontally above the pool's surface as if a creature's ghost would accompany it upward to the heavens. The radiant, glimmering of the ring caused Antoine to come alert, grab his prodding stick, and used it to recover the ring, seconds before it was to fall back into the pool.

"A-ha!" He exclaimed, triumphantly, "zought you could catch ze magnifeecent Antoine napping, eh?" he told the ring in his French accent, "Well, not today, my–"

Antoine froze when a rustling in nearby shrubbery cut his boasting off. A thud came after the rustling, then thuds of foot-fall faded into the forest. Antoine's face was white and his body rigid with fright. The ring dangled, nonchalantly from his stick, and his whole respiratory system stood still in horror. He was speechless when a low groaning spoke for him, coming from the estimated location the thud was heard from.

The blue uniform clad coyote came to his senses, and his Freedom Fighter courage took over. He marched over to the bushes and brushed aside the leaves to find Sonic and Sally laid out in the dirt.

Glancing up at Antoine who gasped, Sonic looked the worse, "You?" his eyes glassed over, and he fell unconscious.

Tails awoke to a disturbance to the peace. It was early morning, but still dark when he heard men yelling from a distance. The orange fox jumped out of bed to find that he had muscle aches and a few bruises that hadn't been there before, but he shrugged them off and hurried to see what was wrong.

Out in the brisk air, a crowd of Freedom Fighters had gathered around Antoine helping him carry Sally and Sonic to the infirmary. Bewildered at such a predicament among such a powerful team, Tails followed the gathering just outside the medical hut.

A sensible person exclaimed over the low murmur of the baffled crowd, "Listen, not everybody can fit into this shelter so return to your own huts and you'll be educated about this tomorrow morning." Tails listened to reason and wearily, went back to bed.


	4. Chapter 4: An Emerald's Power

**Chapter 4: An Emerald's Power**

Chaos Emeralds are not all green in color as their titles may imply. They are called "Emeralds" simply because they all are from beryl deposits. This is not the case as there is not only a green one, but a light blue one, a blue, a magenta, a red, a grey (or clear), and an orange one. The Master Emerald is also green. Each jewel contains vast amounts of energy, and many creatures, such as Echidnas have created machines designed to tap that energy for the purpose of employing them for very large jobs.

The Echidnas, for example, use them to put Angel Island airborne when their very city was threatened by a meteor that would destroy their home. Using very advanced technology, they were able to exploit the Master Emerald's energy to lift their city, along with a large piece of Downunda, their former location, into the sky. As another example, dwellers in a huge cave have devised a way to utilize an emerald of their own to operate an expansive system for simulating night, day, and weather. These cave dwellers have kept such a secret hiding place underneath an island entrance for many millennia without being detected, without needing resources from the outside.

The emeralds' energy source is unknown and is presumably unlimited. The possibilities are endless in terms of usage of such objects of high potential, and many corrupt creatures filled with greed and evil have come to seek them for their limitless power.

Joe found himself clutched between overlander officers, fitted with handcuffs. The typical prison block scenery invaded senses like the smell of a dank, under-maintained factory. He was quite roughly thrown into a cell, littered with cigarettes, and damp with puddles, vile, contaminated puddles. A haven for POWs who got what came to them for making careless mistakes and failing their mission, which is what Joe thought of himself right now.

There was no problem, though, Joe reassured himself after breaking the handcuffs in two. He'd gotten out of a situation like this before without much conflict, the porcupine inwardly voiced. He proceeded to reach for the bars of the containment, preparing himself for the grueling task of–

His actions were suddenly cut short, however, hearing a disturbance down the hall. Joe thought they had already seen his doings on security cameras and responded, but his observations proved otherwise. Why would they be beating and shooting their own men? Joe slid to the back of the jail cell, and faked wearing handcuffs, just in case.

The last person Joe thought would come and rescue him stopped in front of the metal cylinders, "Why, hello Mr. Trouble."

It was a sad sight she had to admit, Joe amongst the humble rubble, dirt ridden floor, hands cuffed behind his back. He came to attention, pulling his supposedly handcuffed hands from behind his back, "Hello, Ms. Annoying," he smiled, disarmingly.

"For coming here with those fleshy freaks on my tail, saving you? Fine, I'll leave with the emerald. I'll be famous for my accomplishment, and you'll rot as a POW!" Sam smiled, mischievously. When she saw Joe saying nothing, she moodily erased her smile, turned on her heal, and started for the generators, Joe smiling after her.

What happened next surprised Sam as much as she surprised him with her appearance. A low grunt and metal's creaking caused her to spin around and come face to face with her porcupine friend, stoking her hair affectionately. The stunned look on Sam's face vanished to be replaced by her hand knocking the other one away.

"Not on the job, creep," Sam stated with a smirk. Handing Joe a pistol and his sword, she said, "Couldn't find your gun, so here's an extra," She turned towards the other rooms and Joe followed, covering her back.

The uneventful journey through the maze of overlander factory proved quite eerie. A feeling of anticipation kept the two on their toes, expecting to get jumped at any second, making it a laborious journey. They finally arrived at the vault on the other side of a large room about the size of two classrooms. It was relatively dark, metallic, and bare save for the two fluorescent lights illuminating the vault's door and very dim ones on the ceiling. The two had the same thing on their mind. A trap.

Retreating several paces, the pair held a hurried, whispered conference, "I'll go first, you cover me."

"No," Sam shot back, "your figure poses more of a threat, and I'm but a girl," she reasoned, "I go first."

Without making a reply, Joe nodded in agreement after brief hesitation. The black and grey raccoon turned and walked toward the threshold, and Joe positioned himself against the wall of the corridor. The girl stepped into the room taking slow steps toward the center of it. Joe keened his enhanced eyes for any movement around the room other than his friend's. His senses caught up to him and he could feel his arms extending, quickly, pointing at the top left of the large room at an overhanging section that slid out of place. Before Joe could react, however, Sam was already running toward the vault door, clutching her shoulder that was spilling blood. All recruits to the ISOO are trained and encouraged to not cry out at the sudden touch of pain, accepting, at least, a quiet gasp. Joe was out and firing at once, shooting the fleshies in the face through the small opening they were trying desperately to advance through. The hatch allowed only one to fit or fire through at one time.

Then, Joe heard a sliding behind him and he barely had time to dodge a laser blast to the left without turning. With the absence of a second gun, he whipped out his blade in a casual fashion, moving toward the second opening with his gun still fixed at the other hatch. His curiosity led him to see how Sam faired. She was not suffering any gunfire, and was trying to crack the code on the vault. Joe reasoned that he was a top priority kill, and the soldiers put their attention on him the most.

His driven attention proved his demise when the pain of laser burn etched his left side abdomen. The laser-proof vest he sported seemed to protect from most of the damage, but not its entirety. The fact that no cover was provided was confirmed significantly tiresome and annoying, "Genius," Joe thought in frustration, "friggn genius."

"Stupid decoder!" Sam exclaimed in her mind, "and I can't do anything to make it go any faster!" The command line like, small display ran through the possibilities of the thirty-two digit code, finding a match every eight seconds or more. The standard in opening the vault required an authorized individual to have an eye retinal scan, thumbprint scan, a four digit security password, and finally, a voice analyzer, but Sam was instructed to find an input and use the decoder to crack the code. She was only required to start the decoder, however, because the advanced software programming that the device included wirelessly infiltrated the overlander servers and tapped the vault door code (the file for the code was evidently encoded for further security purposes, but the decoder took care of it in a matter of seconds). Furthermore, Sam had to prepare all this with one injured shoulder under a bit of laser fire.

As she waited, Sam pulled a TLWD (which the others had shortened to "tlood") with two numbers to go, and yelled, "Joe, catch!" Seeing he successfully dropped his gun and caught the tlood, she took out her own and protected herself from the onslaught of laser fire the overlanders hurled at her when they realized her ploy.

No sooner had Joe caught up with her, using his newly acquired shield, then the heavy, thick vault doors suddenly swept open revealing a new passageway. With the tloods overloading, they ran inside with just enough time for the devices to shut off and the big vault door to swing closed, newly encoded with Sam's own thirty-two digit number.

The sad assembly of overlanders crowded the vault room. Some quietly, mourning dead friends, and others fixing patches to wounds of theirs or others. Higher ranking individuals were at the terminal for the vault doors, cursing the two assailants and their own, foolish selves.

"God!" a general said, "there were only _two_ of them! How in hell could they have possibly escaped such a barrage? A whole minute and more we had them pinned up in this place with nothing to hide behind, whatsoever! _Nothing_!" The middle aged man's ranting continued with vigor, "and they were freaking _kids_! I mean _I_ could have been their father, and I heard they only suffered one hit apiece! Can I ask you, private, how that is acceptable–how that is fathomable!"

"Sir, uh, it was impossible!" an accompanying soldier explained, in a wavering, anxious voice, "the porcupine was everywhere at once, dodging our fire, slashing anyone who dropped down, and pickin us off at the hatches! We couldn't get a shot in, he was–"

"Shut your no good mouth, private," the general interrupted, "Next time we'll get those furry freaks. That was just a warm-up. A surprise is waiting for them in there, and should it fail there's just gonna be another surprise waitin' on the other side of this door."

The old general smirked a mischievous smirk, inwardly hoping the trap inside would fail to that spiny bastard, "Right, men, "he shouted, "get yourselves clear of this room, I don't wanna see anyone still here, dead or alive, by the time I turn around, h'is that clear?"

"Sir, Yes Sir!" a unison of male voices rang back to the esteemed general, and the only sound left to be heard was the hasty shuffling of feet.

The inside of the vault was as dimly lit as the outside of it besides the fact that the fluorescent lights were now blue and lined the corners of the rectangular hall like strips of masking tape in four foot sections. The air smelled as the walls: metallic and dry with a touch of sin layered in a thin film. The most eerie thing about the hall, though, was the detail that it seemed to extend in an unprecedentedly, straight manner for at least a mile, until it disappeared as a result of perspective.

The pair slumped to the floor, allowing their senses to dull and take a break knowing that they were out of immediate danger for the moment. Joe was the first to break the silence, "Well, that was not on the agenda," he smiled.

Sam looked up to smile back, and her attention was averted to the strangeness of the hallway. Joe looked too after the raccoon got up and took a few steps into the passageway, "Weird," she said, "I guess it looks like we are in for a long walk."

Joe thought of this remark as very rational as he got up to accompany her, but he was pulled back by some other sense. He looked back only to be greeted by the vault door staring right back at him. Sam's beckoning for him to follow caused the porcupine to shrug the feeling off and jog down the hall behind her.

Huffing noises held supreme in the metal hall Joe and Sam were running down. Sam had the unnerving feeling that they were being watched, but she couldn't have possibly known for sure. One thing was for sure, however, was that the hall tapered as they got further down. This truth led to the idea that, when standing at the beginning of the corridor, the hall looked longer than it actually was. Pretty soon, the duo found themselves crouching to keep their heads from hitting the ceiling, which at the beginning of the hall was three heads above them. This made them slow to an exasperating, two miles per hour. Joe found himself crawling on the floor behind his friend through the now two by two feet wide "hallway," which had tapered to the point of no standing.

"Wouldn't you say that this is really inconvenient?" Joe pondered, aloud.

"For us, yes," Sam pointed out, "exactly the way they wanted it to be. Hold on a minute, I can see something ahead."

"God finally!" Joe rejoiced, "Is it a door?"

"Yep," Sam replied, "looks pretty small, too, no room or anything before it."

When they reached it, Sam found herself unable to open it, saying it to be opened by means of rotating a large knob with two prongs. She was pretty sure it only required a ninety degree rotation, too. After some attempts, Joe offered to try, so they started the awkward process of switching places. The tight quarters caused them to rub up against each other, making them slightly embarrassed.

When Joe finally found himself at the door Sam said, "This shouldn't be so hard for you. Where did you get that unnatural strength?"

"It's a secret," Joe said. The knob started to turn in unison to his grunting. The knob made ghostly screeching noises, as a result of great friction of metal on metal. Joe's super strength was actually a secret from him. After the Storm, he just remembered to have gotten very strong somehow. Strong in ways he couldn't have possibly fathomed. However, every time he surged blood through his veins and pumped his muscles up, flashes of a fluorescent green went on under his shut eyes; like a memory was trying to erupt from a green volcano and tell him everything that went on that day. That one day he couldn't remember anything, just that when he woke up the next, everyone said it was Sunday instead of Saturday.

The next room was about the same size as the room they had been ambushed in, but circular. The fluorescent lights were now bright enough to see everything in the room and were very white. With a loud _clank,_ the little, heavy door fell into the room, the floor being ten feet below. A huge machine covered the whole room in circular symmetry. Like a stalagmite it tapered down to a console in the center, and tapered back to the floor like a stalactite. Sam said she supposed it to siphon the energy from the crystal. The console featured a basic computer and a slot for the Chaos Emerald, but what was meant to be in the slot was unexpectedly, missing.

"Dammit," Joe realized, "I knew it! This was all a diversion, we have to get–"

_Svvvvvksh_. The door the pair had come through was blocked off by a sliding door, inevitably meaning they were trapped. There was no other seen door or passageway leading out of their cage.

The computer monitor flickered static, and switched on to a blank, black screen. Then, about the time the duo arrived to the console via a bridge, a typed message appeared.

Dear friends,

I must allow myself admiration of you, for making it through the first little exchange we had against each other. However, this is where the road ends. This room is fully capable of releasing a second class toxic gas, giving your poor, little bodies only three minutes before they fail to remain in a conscious state. If you by chance feel that living as a prisoner is more fruitful than being labeled K.I.A., there are microphones on the ceiling you can shout: "Hail President Sufurr, future emperor of our planet!"

General I. N. Kain

p.s. watch out for their blades.

"P.S. watch out for their–" Sam was finishing, but was cut off as a _shhhk_ noise came from the ceiling. All at once, four robots fell from four, dark circles.

The robots were metal, prepubescent child-sized skeletons with no mouths, and jet-black eye whites. Powered by small hydraulic motors, each carried a single bladed saber, and was very dangerous.

"Great," Joe felt exasperated, "what kinda second rate, cheap agents do they think we are?" The porcupine handed his already extended sword to the raccoon, "I can take two of these guys without this, go ahead and work on the others."

Without the protection of his sword's metal, Joe had to be cautious in his handling of his fight. Dodging a few playful swipes, he found the 'bots were actually going to be a challenge, at least without his sword. Between the two of them, the robots had Joe like the game Monkey in the Middle, and Joe found himself trying to catch a blade in attempt to steal a saber from either of the machines.

Meanwhile, Sam found herself reminiscing her teens when she took fencing lessons. Keeping the two side-by-side, as to avoid getting in between, she parried a few thrusts, and tried thrusting herself to find it blocked by the one on the right. She ventured a horizontal sweep to the right, finding the metallic monstrosities to simply duck before taking advantage of Sam's unprotected chest and aiming at her heart. The raccoon had barely enough time to bring the weapon to meet the metal of the robots' motion, but one of the sabers came to pierce her left shoulder. The sword belonging to the robot on the right had successfully stabbed her completely through.

Gasping in pain, Sam jerked her already wounded shoulder from the sword while having to intercept an oncoming strike of steel vertical wise from both of the constructions. Afterwards, she lurched forward into the intercept, causing the robots to loose their balance, and giving Sam a chance to slice the robot on the right, right through the middle.

To put it simply, what took Sam thirty seconds to do, Joe accomplished in the same time three times, "You okay?" he asked. She nodded, clutching her shoulder. With all four robots put down, the next of their worries were starting to become apparent. The room was filling up with a yellowish, deadly toxing that was being poured into the room from little tubes in the ceiling.

"Here," Sam handed back Joe's sword, who returned it to handle form and stowed it in a pocket, "better act fast or that gas is gonna put us out," Sam commented.

As the girl was finishing her words, the porcupine was walking to the ladder. With the fumes already down his nostrils, Joe was struggling to climb it. He reached the door, and mustered all his strength since his power was failing due to the toxins.

The door was smashed through, and Joe turned to his comrade, "Okay, let's hurry," but all he got as a response was a low groan and a heap of a body where he left her, "Sam!"

Joe dragged his friend down the tunnel they had been so foolishly led down. Like a bag of bones and muscle was his burden, unconscious and lifeless, but beautiful. Only this figure was not animate, due to the poisonous fumes they escaped from. Weighted down by those very gases, his strength could not keep its endurance for so long without it on the decay. He knew he had to keep moving. Fast, too. If he was to get Sam to safety, he would have to run or at least jog down the long hall back to the vault door where he had first sensed such a strange aura.

Joe neared the end. With his comrade over his shoulder, fireman style, he came to the spot that grasped at his mind earlier. Setting Sam at the wall, Joe found a tile on the floor and decided that that was the one to break through. With one, vigorous movement the tile fell under Joe's boot. Immediately inside was a blue, fluorescent glow that was slightly dull, and the jewel. A flash of neon, blue flickered through his mind. Hastily, he reached in, grabbed the glowing, blue stone, and pocketed it sensing a slight increase in strength and mental clarity. Then he reached for another pocket, this time on Sam's vest. Joe activated the encryption device–about the size of a portable media center–and held it near the door. A click indicated that the password was cracked, and without delay, he pocketed the device and slung Sam across his shoulders once more.

What met Joe on the other side of the massive door was a situation he had desperately prayed not for while carrying his raccoon partner back from down the hall. Across the vault room emerging from the hallway over was a huge energy cannon, remotely controlled, and aimed directly at them.

Clutching the newly acquired emerald, Joe had only time to mutter, "My God!" before the titanic weapon fired a stream of hot, glowing plasma straight for his chest. Sounds of explosions and ambient noises filled Joe's mind, but felt nowhere near dead. He gazed in wonderment at the blue, glowing, transparent shield that appeared as a globe, enclosing the two of them. The canon overheated and ceased fire after two seconds of constant pouring of energy, and like it, Joe's energy had been poured into the shield that had materialized. Blood rushed to or from his head, he couldn't tell, he only remembered getting fuzzy, numb, and dark, followed by complete and utter blackness.


	5. Chapter 5: Morning

**Chapter 5: Morning**

She was cushioned on soft pillows and downy blankets. The room felt very clean and sterile, very dark and gloomy, but not all together completely dark. Opening her eyes she found herself in an unusual surrounding. There were boxes, supplies, and such strewn and stacked about around the room, it being only about the size of a dorm room. A quaint door took up the wall to the front of her, wooden and ceiling height.

With small amounts of strength feeling overwhelming, she touched her exposed left shoulder coming to a patch of gauze taped to an injury. Injury? What? When did that happen? Poking it lightly, she gasped at the pain she did not expect, and proceeded to observe the rest of herself. She will probably have to purchase a new, stock, ISOO suit later, since the necessary actions needed to tend the wound required her left shoulder and sleeve to be ripped off. Nevertheless, the raccoon did not have any recollection of that ever happening, let alone how she got in this bed and room that are her world right now.

Using careful movements, Sam finally found herself out of the comfortable bed, needing to avoid the thoughtlessly placed cardboard boxes on the ground. Two, small, high windows allowed a tiny bit of light to come through the blinds, giving her enough visibility to find herself around each of the boxes. Then, halting at the end of the bed staring at the door, Sam remembered being in a large, metallic room and being stabbed by a skeleton shaped robot.

_Knock knock! _The door interrupted Sam's thoughts. Making no reply, her response was only to open the door. The coat-clad figure sparked something within and she remembered everything! Joe Porc stood in the doorframe, hands in big pockets, "How are you feeling?"

Sam's first word of the day was his name while wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his right shoulder. Her porcupine friend put his hands at the small of her back.

She whisper-said, "Can you tell me… where we are?"

The pair stood at the entrance of their bunker in the middle of nowhere, it was morning. Flat terrain spread out in all directions for miles and miles. To their right, north, there was a mountain range over twenty five miles away. Clouds of all types lined the sky, making a desert-like snack, with frosting, to gorge upon. Other than this, not a whole lot featured their surroundings. Inside the underground, L-shaped bunker a room was the first you came into after descending a bit of stairs from the three-bolt lock, iron door. From the fifteen by fifteen foot room there was a hall to the left, which extended ten feet to Sam's door. Generally, boxes of supplies and belongings filled the bunker, along with various items tossed about with the occasional garbage item.

Neither Joe nor Sam had said a word since Sam came out. She simply followed him up the stairs and out the door.

"When I woke up," Joe started, "I was in that room. I checked the room you were in and found that you were sleeping, so I went back to sleep on the ground," they kept their gaze toward the unusual scenery, Sam listening intently to her spike-haired comrade, "So I woke up again and checked out the bunker and found that a key had been put into my pocket, apparently to unlock that gigantic door."

"Why didn't you come sleep in the bed?" Sam put simply.

"I would have been to much a disturbance. If you woke up and flipped out at where you were and how you got there– especially with me in the bed with you," Joe added, faintly glancing at her, "It would be too much for me to handle."

A few moments of reflection passed like honey dripping from a small container, sweet, slow, and sticky. The unnatural quiet of everything around them felt oppressive, and as if a giant baseball glove was pushing her to the ground, Sam leaned against the wall of the bunker and slid to a sitting position in the hard, orange pebbly surface, sighing.

"Any breakfast?"

Joe didn't wait before answering, like he anticipated the question, "I'm not sure, I'll have to go back down and take a look," he went back through the still open door, venturing down the narrow passageway to the bunker's innards.

Further indulgence of the dull scenery made her as if to feel sick to the stomach, as if you'd feel if you saw a whole other cake in front of you after painfully eating five slices of one before, so she got up on her feet to walk around a bit. Coming to the back of the roof of the bunker where it tapered into the rocks underground, Sam noticed a loose material like a mesh or blanket covering the bunker's concrete surface. The orange thing presented itself as a type of camouflage device, and didn't seem to have anything holding it down besides its own weight. Tugging it lightly, Sam concluded that it wasn't held down by anything, and in doing so decided to pull the whole thing off.

About this time, Joe was exiting the construct with two, brown paper bags. Looking from left to right, he found Sam to be missing. Joe, uneasily, called her name a few times, still standing from the doorway. Then, without warning, one of his head spikes received a sharp tug by some unknown energy from above, causing the porcupine to jump in shock. Spinning around he looked up and found a sly faced Sam grinning from ear to ear, "Ha ha! That looked so hilarious from up here! Hehehehe!"

Joe put on a smirk at the playful raccoon's antics, "So, what are you doing up there?" Joe asked sarcastically, folding his arms and hooding his eyes in a dignified manner.

"Come up here and take a look for yourself," the girl giggled.

Sauntering over to the back of the bunker, he went to the lowest part of the decline of the roof and put one large step onto the concrete. He then effortlessly climbed up to stand in the middle of the concrete platform, "Hmm…"

In faded, large white block letters, the word _Crypt _spelled itself on the grey, coarse concrete. Joe went to sit beside his partner, "I wonder what its supposed to mean."

"Your guess is as good as mine," Sam said, pausing, "You find something?"

"Actually, however-we-got-here left us something to fill our appetites. A banana and a bologna sandwich in each bag," he said, tossing a bag to his friend, "Now, we should probably find ourselves a means home."

"I already got that covered…phoned the agency to send a plane in our direction…transferring our GPS coordinates through the wrist phone," Sam explained through bologna sandwich.

"Then I guess it's just a matter of minutes before we're outta here," Joe stated, and the eerie silence that followed was perfectly proper with the surrounding wasteland. Without speaking more, the pair enjoyed their breakfast like a picnic sitting on top the shelter's roof. Joe had not noticed, even though he'd been gazing across the horizon for what seemed like hours, the tiny plants that stuck out of the ground, scattered around the earth, only about half a foot high. Perhaps he could only see them now because of the tiny increase in altitude. Vegetation, even tiny plants, meant a lot for the porcupine since it meant the planet's earth was still fertile and habitable. The Storm appeared so powerful that it was acceptable to foresee no regrowth of plants in the prolonged future, and widespread, this was the truth for everybody on Angel Island for a long while.


	6. Chapter 6: Phantom Fox Girl

**Chapter 6: Phantom Fox Girl**

The awakening felt like a pain in the head. He had a relatively large lump in the place he was hit, because of the concentrated flow of blood into that area. _Man_, Sonic thought, _what happened? What was that thing that hit me? It couldn't have been one of Robotnik's creations…too intricate._ Slightly lifting only one eyelid, the hedgehog looked around the room to find him in the medical hut back at Knothole Village.

Suddenly realizing that he had last seen Sally gazing down at him before he went out, Sonic attempted to jerk into motion but found a feathery hand on his shoulder. He tilted his head, following the arm finding it belonging to the esteemed, middle-aged duck, Doctor Quack, who garbed in his profession's attire made only to solemnly point at a bed to Sonic's right.

On her side facing away from the two, Sally was comatose, and had at least two bandages wrapped around her forehead. The girl had the sheets only halfway covering her, but Sonic could also detect indications of bandages around her waist and legs.

"Welcome back, Sonic," Doctor Quack said, rather plainly, "as you can see, your mission has been jeopardized, so nobody but you, Sally, or Bunnie can possibly know what had happened back there in Robotropolis. And, since Bunnie is nowhere to be heard of, and Sally, obviously, you are the only one who can fill us in."

Sonic was in a pool of swirling electrons of memory, trying to piece them together for logical explanation. Suddenly, he blurted, "Antoine!"

"Yes, Antoine was the one who recovered you," the doctor replied, "You both were dropped off several yards next to him while he was, er, 'monitoring' the power ring pool. He said you woke up for an instant and saw you."

_But no_, Sonic thought, _he brought us back! That clumsy french-of-a-coyote actually left behind those useless, pathetic fears of his, bought some balls, and came to check on us. At least_, Sonic reconsidered, _that's what _I_ thought happened_…

Dr. Quack must have been reading Sonic's face, "He told us that he kept his post: one A.M. to four A.M. and said he heard some bushes rustle after retrieving a power ring. He said that then he heard footsteps fall back into the woods before recovering you two. At around three in the morning he knocked on my door followed by a little crowed, and after Sally and you were inside five minutes later everyone went back to sleep."

"How long ago was this?" Sonic said, staring at a clock.

"Don't worry, Sonic," Quack said, "you haven't been out more than only seven-and-a-half hours," pausing, he continued, "Now, what's your half?"

As Sonic began, the duck went to get a chair, "Well," Sonic paused to prop himself up on the bed to sit upright, "First awry thing to happen was when Bunnie disappeared," he reflected, "when we went around a corner in one of the laboratories, we didn't see her follow.

"What happened next is still pretty messed up in my head," the hedgehog put an index and thumb finger to his forehead and temple, "We went further into the main building in the center of the city, and came to a large laboratory with a bunch of stuff in it. A big robot came out and fought with me. It really, wasn't like any of Robotnik's designs, but it really put me in a pickle. It was fast but powerful, and before I knew it, it got me right in the head," that's when Sonic noticed the bandages on his head, touching them with the palm of his hand.

A break in the storytelling told Dr. Quack that that was all Sonic knew. He put the chair he used back and returned with a pill, "Well, Sonic, you've been through a lot. Now, this is just a sedative," Quack held up the capsule between two fingers, "I want you to relax and get some rest. That blow to your head will need some time to–"

"No thanks, doc," Sonic interjected, "I have to get back to Robotropolis to find our pal! You said Ant picked up another ring? That's my cue to get moving!" Sonic jumped out of the bed next to the doctor, still wearing his shoes, but fell to his knees clutching his skull and groaning.

"Sonic–uh–you really shouldn't strain–"

"It'll be fine, Quack," Sonic held up his torso with fists, and breathed through his mouth, "but…you got any painkillers?

Tails woke in the cold, laying face up on the ground. Opening his eyes he found himself in the middle of the Great Forest, and realizing this, panic took hold of his heart. He lurched forward, finding himself to be clutching a golden staff twice his height with a fixture for a large gem on the top. The fox gazed at the staff a moment, then whipped it back as he spun towards the opposite direction after hearing a familiar voice giggling.

What was fooling with his mind? Could that possibly be Fiona in the distance amongst the trees? How could that be? His lost friend was smiling at him a precious smile. Tails stood, jaw and eyelids hanging, staring at the much darker orange furred, fox. Still keeping her eyes fixed on the boy, Fiona turned her body towards the opposing direction.

"Wait!" Tails shouted, "Are… you?"

"Follow…" a second passed before she slipped into the tall, dense foliage. For a few seconds Tails hesitated before running after her. _Why is she here?_ Tails asked himself of impossible answers, _why am _I_ here? Was I sleepwalking? Everything is so confusing!_

Fiona was Tails's love a few months before. He and she grew to be fast friends, which was Robotnik's goal in the first place. The Fiona that Tails knew was only a robotocized copy of the real Fiona who was five years older at the time. The fake turned on Tails, breaking his heart as it tried to kill him. For all this time, Tails couldn't have ever known where the real Fiona had been.

Finding his way through the thick bushes in Fiona's direction, he thought of these things. Emerging from the vegetation, a very large clearing interrupted his thoughts. It was about the size of half the village–gymnasium size. He couldn't see Fiona anywhere until he spotted her all the way across the field, _But I was right behind her!_ The two-tailed fox, exclaimed in his thoughts. He had to catch up. If it meant being in that fox's company again, he was determined to follow, whatever the consequences. For self-defense, he decided on keeping the staff as a weapon.

From the other side, Tails watched Fiona motioning for him to keep following.

Sally awoke with a start. It was Tails that first came to her mind, remembering him with her at Robotropolis last night. He came out of nowhere just after Sonic went out, and he never said a word the whole time he was there with her. It was as if he was sleepwalking.

What worried her most is that the robot Sonic was fighting came and knocked her out too, leaving Tails all alone against the monster. Ideas flew like bricks into her mind of what might have happened to him.

Doctor Quack was quieting her down, "My princess, I'm sure little Miles is alright. Please, relax and let me take a look at that dressing."

Sally sat back against the wall of the hut letting the duck unwind the cloth from her scalp, "Doctor, I must see Tails soon. Where is he?"

"It's okay," he reassured her, "I saw him myself when Antoine came with you two early this morning," he paused, turning to prepare new bandages, "By the way, Sonic left with a Power Ring to Robotropolis to find Bunnie. He said when you woke up to give this to you," reaching into his pocket, Quack handed Sally a large ring.

It bore resemblance to a Power Ring, however, this was two thirds the size and silver colored. There was not anything apparently peculiar or powerful looking about it, other than it was shaped almost exactly like its golden counter-parts. When she finished looking over it, Sally stuck it in one of the pockets on her blue vest, fitting it easily.

"How was he feeling when he left?" The girl asked.

"Not too well, but he asked for a painkiller before he went, so that will keep him up for a while… not more than three hours or so."

With hands in pockets, Doctor Quack stood pondering about this while trying to direct his mind to the next thing he was going to do, unsuccessfully. The unsettling quiet that arose, drove Sally up from the bed.

"I don't feel too bad, how bout I go to Miles's hut?"

"If you really feel okay, you can, but I think I'll go with you if you don't mind."

Sally agreed and the pair exited the hut towards the young fox's hut.

"So, Tails came to your rescue?" Quack asked his princess.

"He did, but… he didn't look very…well, awake. It was like he was sleepwalking: his eyes were droopy, he didn't respond to stimuli or other people, didn't talk or make any gestures––I just can't possibly explain it." Sally related.

The pair continued to walk, Quack said, "Odd…and you don't really remember anything else before you were knocked out?"

"Actually, I'm pretty sure I remember him holding a golden staff."

Arriving at the building, the chipmunk-girl stepped up to the front door and rapped on the wood, "You awake, Tails?" after a few seconds of wait for a response, Sally knocked a bit more, "Tails, I'm coming in, okay?" When she heard nothing on the other side, she opened the door and went in.

She found nobody to be inside.

Hurling paper and garbage debris in the air from his wake, Sonic was traveling at, a lowly, two-hundred forty through the dark and oppressive Robotropolis. Every, which way one went, they would be greeted by service lines, electrical wires, pipes, and metallic buildings of various sizes. The city was consumed within an enormous cloud of gaseous pollution that constantly poured from factories and laboratories. The sight of that made Sonic sick to his stomach in disgust and hatred for that fat, villainous, putridity who so ruthlessly conquered this, once sanctuary, city.

Poised, and ready for anything, Sonic sped around and sometimes over these obstacles, coming to a long straight-away towards that pointed directly to the main, center, egg-shaped, palace. Rising above mostly everything in the center of the metropolis by five times, the palace was very large, and had a balcony like a pocket near the top.

The hedgehog's first idea to look would be the primary holding cells in the palace's dungeon. If she was disabled and captured, that is where Bunnie would be. The Power Ring Sonic brought along was kept in a small, brown backpack, since upon physical contact with him a ring would come out of inactiveness. Therefore, when he needed it at a critical time, he could grab it out of the backpack.

Any way into the building is kept heavily secure and guarded. Usually, if possible, a team of Freedom Fighters would find a harmless tunnel blocked by grating they could infiltrate by, but being one hedgehog, Sonic didn't have any need to stay as a group. He certainly didn't have any time, either.

Zipping to a hiding spot a stone's throw from an entry, Sonic required only to wait for one of the service hovercraft that routinely exited and entered through these sliding, blast doors. From behind, Sonic heard the whirring and buzzing of the hovercraft engines he had been waiting to hear, and, making sure he was safely out of sight, let them pass.

The caravan of four ships, each shaped as an egg, about the size of a truck each, and green, stopped in front of the entrance. Sonic looked on in awe as each craft waited for about ten seconds before going in after the preceding one. This could only mean that a check was performed on each craft, probably in an enclosed, threshold, for stowaways.


	7. Chapter 7: Weapons Cache

**Chapter 7: Weapons Cache**

_Sleep? Am I kidding myself? How can I possibly sleep when I have Sam on my mind?_

Joe was in his darkened apartment after a hard day at his work. To get any rest is a big job for him, especially when he had something important on his mind. Or someone. Whenever he would have a night like this, he felt like he wanted to shoot himself in the temple because he could not go to sleep. The reason, being his constant thinking.

_That blue orb…_Joe remembered, _it seemed to appear when I grabbed that emerald, but… What happened after I passed out?_ Joe had been pondering this unanswerable question for days now, even after they were shipped home and debriefed.

Joe reminisced that debriefing. The council was perplexed at how the pair ended up in that area, forty miles south of their targeted pickup point. The transport sent to retrieve them said they waited six minutes with no sign of the two returning. The officials announced them accounted for being prisoners of war, or killed in action.

The next morning, Sam phoned the agency for a pickup. Everyone was very confused why Joe and Sam were so far away. Therefore, Joe just told them they didn't know how they got there either, and after Joe related their side of the story, the council agreed to an understanding that no one knew how Joe and Sam wound up where they did.

That was last Tuesday. Joe and Sam went out, again, last Friday. Tomorrow is Monday, the other thing Joe had on his mind.

The next mission.

Six o'five, he was late. Five minutes is an eternity for the officials. Joe was not a morning person, and as a result, nobody is happy. He was walking down the narrow corridor to the briefing room where he was to receive his instructions. The hall was dimly lit fitting only single file passage, and at the end of it, a hallway sized door opening automatic, sliding vertically from the center with a diagonal median. The general build was quite industrial and bunker-like.

Joe came to the door and with a hissing it quickly slid open. Inside, the lead council leader, a brown hawk codenamed Black Raptor, said, "Good morning, Mr. Porc. Glad to see that you could make it… finally."

The inside of the room was dark and metallic. There was a place for nine attendees at a doughnut shaped table, each featuring their own blue, backlit panels. Two other, nameless, council members flanked the leader, and Sam occupied one of the seats opposite the three authorities.

"Now," Joe sat himself at his friend's right as Black Raptor continued, "we recently sent operatives Deskrette and Tim to retrieve intel on the overlander's weapons research. We have news of very devastating hand weapons that cannot be allowed left in control of our enemies."

The hawk punched a button on his panel. A large holographic image displayed a fairly large building, "The weapons are being held for further field testing in this structure, once home to Dr. Robotnik's robot maintenance services," the large bird continued, "we urge you to take caution. The overlanders are much more up-tight about their security as of late–don't let your guard down!"

The hawk pushed another button on his console. Building schematics and plans littered the image, and the display zoomed toward the base of the building, "Your goal is to place timed charges on each of the crates which hold these weapons, and escape before they go off. Remember: these bombs have enough explosive power to destroy the entire building.

"Be quick, be merciless, and stay alert!" With that, blue lights faded brighter and the trio came into detail more fully.

"You agents are top-notch," the one on the right said in a matter of fact way, "this is your job. Do not fail and you will be rewarded."

Sam and Joe rode an ISOO transport towards old Robotropolis outskirts, and it dropped them off.

Joe hurried to a heap of metallic waste about three yards away from drop zone with Sam following, and peering above the top of the pile, whipped out a pair of binoculars. The binoculars had a zoom function, infrared vision, and featured a camera system for saving onto a small memory card. About a half-mile away was the border of old Robotropolis city, where everything living ceases and everything mineral and metallic begin. The binoculars had a mission-based heads-up display, which digitally printed information onto the lenses of the binoculars. The HUD made an outline of the specific building they were to penetrate cueing Joe to zoom in to it with a lever he operated on the top of the binoc's.

"Theeeere you are…" Joe said to himself in a low tone. Physical statistics lined up on the screen in a green, phosphorescent fashion, relaying the height, distance, and structural type about the construct.

Joe lowered the mint condition binoculars from his eyes, "It's about two-hundred fifty meters in our current heading from here," he put the binoculars in its case and stashed it among the junk, turning to Sam, "we'll set a waypoint on our wrist communicators for this location. If we consequently become separated we'll meet back here at ten-hundred hours."

"Understood," Sam replied, tuning her vocal based communication to mission-mode. She followed her comrade at a light jog towards their goal.

Other than the random encounters of junk heaps, ranging from trashcan-size to dump-truck size, the land was empty. No plants, no trees, no forests, rivers, or meadows; all things of the past.

They eventually found themselves crisscrossing the avenues of the old, dark city of metal and concrete making their way towards the targeted building. The dead, ghost city held such a silenced air, that the two furry's jogging footsteps were amplified to an uncomfortable level as they slapped against the concrete roads.

Coming about a sniper's distance from the main entrance the pair stopped behind the corner of a building separate from the Weapons Research Building. A makeshift chain link fence sporting barbed wire circled the perimeter of the building. Beyond, two guards flanked the double-doored entrance to the construct.

Joe took out his pistol and screwed in the silencer. He raised it, aiming at the guards, but Sam put a hand on his arm, "I've got a better idea," she said, "I'll go around to the other side of this building and come up from the right. You sneak over to the building to the left and snipe any surveillance cameras you see before taking out the guards. I'll have them distracted by climbing up the fence."

Joe replaced his pistol, "Good idea, let's do it."

There weren't any windows on the building to see, so the two had confidence that no one else would be able to witness their entrance. Joe made is way over to the large, lifeless building that stood across the street making sure to stay in the shadows and make hardly any noise. Cracking pipes and nameless boxes of metal were placed in no particular strategy across the scenery, making for good cover.

Joe crouched and hid behind a large pipe. He took out his gun again along with a scope. Snapping on the scope, Joe sighted his targets: two cameras and two guards, and waited for Sam.

After two minutes, Sam darted out from behind the building, leaping onto the chain-link. Steadying the barrel by the silencer with thumb and forefinger, Joe took out the two cameras. One guard noticed Sam and alerted the other, raising their automatic plasma weapons. Joe didn't get a chance to successfully kill one of them before they fired, but after one miss, the two men fell, bullets in their heads.

Joe used his scope to check his friend's safety. He found her standing on the ground next to the fence, which had a hole with a one-and-a-half feet radius through it made by the blasts. The circumference of the hole was red with heat as an effect of the plasma weapons. He saw the raccoon waving him over.

"We can get through this," Sam said as Joe came up to her. The red had dulled and finally disappeared while Joe was on his way over, "the metal is still hot, I bet," she said.

"Maybe…" Joe paused, walking closer. Sam had taken a few paces back, "it's possible to jump through­­–"

He stopped his speaking as Sam's body flew passed him through the hole, in a diving position horizontally. She caught her fall by rolling on her side and reversing her direction, ending up in a kneeling stance.

"Well," Sam righted herself, folding her arms, "I'm sure it would be no problem for you to just lift the whole fence with your impossible strength," she said, sarcastically.

"Do I sense jealousy?" Joe responded, turning his back to ready himself for his jump.

"Pff," Sam turned.

_Heh_ Joe thought _it's jealosy_. But just then, Joe heard a clicking and knew he had to act fast. Whirling around, the porcupine used a burst of muscles, shooting through the hole at Sam's back. Time slowed. He withdrew his pistol at break-neck speed, barrel rolling toward the sound. Joe found the enemy behind a stationary, mini-gun and heard it begin shooting. Keeping his aim, Joe flew into Sam's unsuspecting back and they both skidded to the ground. Joe fired his gun, its projectile found the forehead of his opposition, and the man slumped onto the gun.

"Grrrrrrah!" Sam pushed Joe and herself off the ground, "what the _hell_ was that?!" she inquired, furiously.

"Just saving your life," Joe responded, flatly and picked himself off the ground, "you should be a little more grateful. Besides we should get into this building and work on our mission."

Sam eased her emotions, "Your right, c'mon."

The two reached the entrance of the building. Joe eased open the large, steel-plated doors and peaked inside. Finding no welcome party, Joe motioned Sam to follow, covering his six. Inside was a hallway leading to an elevator. It was about thirty feet long with office and maintenance doors along it.

Reaching the elevator, Joe looked to the doors to the left and right. The door on his left lead to stairs, and the door to his right, beyond Sam, was a door marked _Storage Chambers 1-4_, "Let's take the stairs."

"Why," Sam protested, "what's so wrong about elevators?" However, before she could say anything more, the elevator made a dinging sound, "stairs it is," she hastily agreed and they quickly closed the door behind them before the elevator could open.

Back in the hall, the door to the left had just closed shut, and the elevator's thick, double-sliding doors obliviously, glided open.

"These elevator doors are on our side," a soldier who came out of the elevator said, "it's too bad they cannot tell us about everything they see," he said as his two comrades followed.

Another lower ranking, soldier was detached, "Yeah, I'm sure it would tell us everything about the one-hundred mice with bastard swords on their way down the stairs," he commented sarcastically.

"Shut-up, James," the first man replied, "I have had enough of you and your humor," he grunted, "however, that is most likely where our intruders went.

"James, you come with me and head downstairs, and you," he indicated the other, shorter, woman soldier, "search storage one through four, just in case. Afterwards, search these other rooms, and contact us on radio if you find anything."

"Understood!" the woman said, and was off.

The senior officer turned to the other door and ventured through with James trailing behind. The soldiers wore a full-body uniform in boots, and wore helmets that had a heads up display and a radio inlayed into them. In their hands, each carried super-heated, high density, photon compression-discharging rifles. In normal conversation, soldiers referred to them as just "the plasmas". The H.U.D. on the helmet relayed information such as waypoint directions, weapon battery percent, and other useful statistics.

Making their way down the stairs, the two men readied their rifles as they prepared to enter the main storage facility. The large, underground room was big enough to fit a basketball court in it and it was normally lit dimly when not in use. There were usually enough crates in the room to make a small labyrinth in it.

They reached the door, which they found to have been forced open.

"Sir," James commented, "it doesn't look like the door could have been breached by a machine."

"I know, Klighton," the officer addressed him by his family name, "I've heard rumors of one of those furries having –_unnatural_– abilities: lifting huge oak tables, bending prison bar steel, busting in sliding, metal doors… These unwelcome guests invited themselves in manually."

A force pulled the door open while the metal locking bolt was still in. It had ripped the bolt out of the doorframe with the door still on its hinges; metal was twisted and distorted in abnormal, uneven ways.

"A timed detonation is the most reliable," Sam commented softly to her partner. She applied another wad of explosive paste to a crate, "Whichever crates those guns are in are gonna get a hell-of-a burning."

"And," Joe added, "we shouldn't use all of our bombs in one place," he said, counting the four blobs of explosive substance on the side of the crate Sam worked at.

Sam giggled to herself, "Don't worry, I have lots more to use," the female raccoon grabbed another handful of explosives before the pair prepared to move to another crate.

"Stay where you are, scum!" they froze. Joe eyed two pieces of extra company at the entrance to the storage room, both well armed, "We have you both in our sights and are ready to fire if you cannot cooperate."

Joe cursed in his mind, but made up a new strategy. Still crouching, he reached inside his pocket that charged the bombs. He quickly dialed in ten minutes countdown time, and armed them, watching ten turn to nine and the zeroes counting back.

"Let me see your hands!" the soldier ordered, "put them on your heads, stand up straight, and face us!"

Joe and Sam had to do what the soldier said. Joe saw both men in direct view, now. One was taller than the other with black facial hair and cold, dark eyes. The other was probably around the same age as Joe, with brown hair and wearing eyeglasses. The two were advancing on their position mid-way across the room, snaking around boxes and crates.

The older man stopped directly in front of Joe, putting a meter of distance between them. The other overlander halted on the older man's right, giving himself quick access to cover behind a crate on his right.

The first soldier started, "You are both arrested on behalf of the Overlander Army and are declared prisoners of wa–"

Joe's foot cut his declaration short, kicking the man in the sternum and sending him into a crate behind him. The other soldier whipped behind the crate he had stuck next too, before Joe's already primed pistol. Joe held his aim toward the crate, "Yeah, and stay back there!"

Sam came to Joe's side, "We better make ourselves scarce before he sounds any alarm. And, we should leave before three minutes to put some distance between us and the building before it goes off," she said with a hushed haste.

"Right, let's make our way to the door," Joe kept his aim held at the general direction of the remaining foe while Sam took her pistol out and headed for the door. Joe followed her walking backwards, and soon they were back at the stairwell.

Sam checked her watch, _thirty minutes plus mission time_, she read, _much too long for my taste_.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Sam removed her one-handed, sub-machine gun from her belt and checked the clip to be sure. Seeing as it was all full, she cocked the gun, loading a round into the barrel. She also took out a tlood from a pocket on her uniform's vest. Readying both defensive and offensive weapons, she instructed, "You take out any near the elevator and doors. When my tlood overloads, I say 'switch' and you take out yours and we make a dash for the exit's door."

"Right," Joe replied.

"On silent three, ready. One…two…"

They burst out into the hallway, and simultaneously Joe totaled two elevator sentries while Sam was firing into a crowd at the exit through her tlood's shield. Walking towards half of the crowd, Sam's tlood was about to over-heat under the onslaught of rapid, plasma fire.

"Switch!"

Joe activated his in front of Sam's just as hers over-heated, while the barrage of super-heated weaponry continued its pour. What came next caught both Joe and Sam off guard. A fragmentation grenade was flying through the air towards them, and Joe reacted the best way he could think of.

"Run!" he grabbed Sam's arm and ran towards his offenders, leaving the grenade to sail passed behind them. With an explosion to his back, and with the tlood still in his hand, Joe let go of Sam and whipped out his sword, slicing one man in the process. Then, just as his tlood overloaded, he struck a second man with the butt of his tlood in the head to unconsciousness. The last overlander hastily fired his rifle at Joe's protected abdomen, only to be retaliated with decapitation.

Joe checked the rest of the hallway as Sam crouched by the door to reload her SMG, "That was pretty impressive," she slammed a fresh cartridge into the handle of her gun and cocked a bullet into the hot barrel, "you think we're home-free yet?"

Joe wiped the blood off of his sword's blade on the cloth of a fallen soldier, giving Sam a raised eyebrow, "Not by a long shot," he said, " and I bet whatever is on the other side of this door is gonna give us a load of shit." When he had finished cleaning his blade, the button on the handle easily retracted the metal back into its home.

"And it's too bad there are no windows on this door to give us an idea of what to expect," she commented, "how much time do we have left?"

Joe took out the display, "six minutes, seventeen seconds," he stuck it back into the pocket, "in any case, we better get out of this building pretty fast."

"Very true," she said, "whatever we find out there, we need to keep moving forward, or whichever direction we need in order to avoid destruction… Let's inch the doors open slightly, before we decide to leave, to see if there is any force.

"Good idea," Joe agreed, "Let's do it at the same time, to about five inches."

Using extreme caution, they pushed the doors open to approximately five inches and had a look through the crack they produced. Joe couldn't believe his eyes, for there didn't appear to be any force that he could see to oppose them.

Joe stashed his sword and took out his pistol, "Ready?"

Sam stood up and raised her gun and tlood in each hand, "Whenever you are."

"On silent one. Three … two …"

They pushed the doors open fully and made a sweeping scan of the whole front yard for enemies. Sam heard Joe scream her name and she jerked her head in his direction. Her last image was of Joe looking up behind her in terror, and she was unconscious before she hit the ground.


End file.
